


A Summer Evening

by followbutterfly



Category: Tenet (2020)
Genre: Age Difference, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, nothing hurts just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26495938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followbutterfly/pseuds/followbutterfly
Summary: Neil didn't expect his evening routine was interrupted by a handsome stranger in the midst of Summer as the other tried tohit onhim?
Relationships: Neil/The Protagonist (Tenet)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 97





	A Summer Evening

Neil always liked walking down on the street in the evening, watching people passing by. The nice breezing air at dusk gave him a refreshing mind and a wide perspective. The lights of the high-rise buildings and the stars which started lingering on the sky were the beauty. He was always a night owl and the strolling at this time was equal to ordinary people’s morning run.  
  


He put on his headphone and started to jog at the first block from his apartment, switching to casually amble and stroll from time to time. The sweats would start to dampen his tousled blond hair around the third block, his face would be flushed when he turned around the corner at a flower shop, and his chest would be heaving hard when he was about to reach the main street. He would continue to run unless he found a nice spot for a shot break and when the crowd walking passed him diminished.

  
He stopped running when it was about eight p.m. Instead of craving for coffee, his brain needed vodka. His friends, if he could call his classmates as ones, used to tease him about the weird habits. They had known Neil was always the odd one – the weirdest and most peculiar, but also a standout prodigy. He was quiet, aloof, sitting back at the class, making no friends, leaving before everyone else realized he was in the class at the first place.

He had no need to make friends because he knew what he wanted. He was three years younger any other college students because his quick learning, a humble word for being a genius. He already enrolled a master’s degree in Physics and would start writing a thesis before his fellow students finished their rough drafts of their final paper.

  
  
Neil always shrugged off all the compliments coming from the professors and facility members. They didn’t matter and did not entirely stir him. He deflected them all, diverted their attention, stayed low and remained unnoticed. He preferred to moving under the currents, emerging when things really matter caught his attention.

  
  
He slowed down his pace to catch his breath. He turned left and strolled into a small pub around the corner. It was one of his usual routines: going to the bar, drinking vodka to clear his head, getting home, writing some research.

  
  
The pub was less crowded than usual. He sat on the counter and ordered the same drink. The bartender greeted him with a cordial smile and went back to clean the glass. Neil had a soft spot for this place since no one tried to make friends with him, even the staff. He could drink in peace and enjoyed observing people, making himself invisible.

He rubbed his hair absentmindedly while thinking about his proposal. His mind was elsewhere when he was sipping his drink and ready to dive in the tingling tipsiness which was one of his unspoken pleasure.

He didn’t notice someone was approaching until a man sat beside him.

  
  
Neil didn’t bother. He was still drinking and paid the other no mind.

  
  
“Diet coke, please,” the other man ordered. Neil wanted to snort at his order but kept the opinion to himself.

  
  
He felt the eyes lingering at him, whether trying to catch his attention or to provoke the agitation, but he refused to be in the game. He was nursing his drink when the other spoke up.  
  


“Vodka, as it always is.”

  
  
The American accent. Abruptly, Neil turned to him, looking straight at the man. He was a little taken aback by how good looking he was, especially in the perfectly cut suit curving to fit his well-built body. He was a black man in mid-forties, dressed as a business man. His beard was trimmed and his eyes were sparking as if amused. He grinned and raised his glass to greet him.

Older men were always Neil’s type, and this man just happened to check all his boxes.

Damn it.

“Excuse me,” Neil raised his eyebrows, “are you trying to seducing me, sir? ‘cause that’s such an old trick.” He used his thick Essex accent to rebuke the stranger, but the man only chuckled.

  
  
“I missed that since the last time we’ve met.”

  
  
It was the strangest flirting technique he had ever heard. “Sorry, but who are you again?”

  
  
The stranger smiled, “my name doesn’t matter.”

  
  
“Oh, I thought you would say you want me to remember you name, ‘cause you’d like me to scream your name in the bed tonight.’” Neil pointed his finger to the man’s chest, “that would work, my friend.”

  
  
The man’s smile still lingered on his face, and his eyes. Neil’s breath hitched. He thought he could feel the man radiating the sense of warmness, as if Neil was his long-lost friend.

  
  
He must have mistaken him with someone else. That was the most logical conclusion, Neil presumed. Rather than correcting the man, Neil swept his eyes over the stranger’s body one more time, and decided to play along.

  
  
“So,” Neil put down his drink, “what’s your deal? Do you want to fuck me?”

He switched to his usual posh accent, emphasizing on the last word just to tease. 

The man snorted, “no.” He looked at Neil one more time, the friendliness and, how would he call it? sadness had reached his eyes. “I just want to see you and buy you a drink, is that okay?”

  
  
He closed their distance. Using his shoulder to touch lightly on Neil’s. For some reasons, Neil didn’t chide away. He was so intrigued by this stranger’s approach.

  
  
“Well, if you want a long-tern, you are talking with the wrong person.”

  
  
“No?” the man quirked his eyebrows, “you must be surprised.”

  
  
Neil wanted to argue that he was dreaming and told him to get lost but he didn’t.

  
  
“I don’t do the long term.”

  
  
“I don’t expect you to,” he said kindly, “I just missed you, Neil.”

  
  
That, Neil’s thoughts froze, was unexpected.

  
  
Before he could ask for the explanation, the man stood up. He left a few bills on the counter and called the bartender. “His drinks are on me,” then the stranger turned to look at him, eyes shimmering, perhaps because of the lights.

  
  
“See you, Neil,” he said and left the pub.

  
  
Then the second thought came forward into his mind. Neil jumped out of his seat and rushed to the gate. _I was not in the right mind,_ he berated himself as he ran to catch up with the man.

  
  
He was not far from the street, walking towards a black car parked outside. Neil reached out and touched the man’s arm just in time he turned back.

  
  
He looked at Neil and waited for his move.

  
  
_Fuck, why is this so hard?_

  
  
“You--” he was a little out of breath, from running and something else. He was _so_ unnerved at himself, “you, would you like to have a drink? I’d like to hear more of your Neil.” 

  
  
The man face turned into something warm and kind. _Shit, he looks so good,_ Neil thought furiously.

  
  
Then, he replied with a gentle smile, “of course.”

  
  
“and, um, having you til the morning, if that choice’s still on the table.”

The man let out a surprised laughed, loud and god, _so beautiful_.

  
  
“of course,” he said.

And in the morning, he told him his name.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while listening to Taylor Swift's Mirrorball.  
> Hope you guys enjoy this version of Neil.


End file.
